


Part of This

by AlulaSpeaks



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlulaSpeaks/pseuds/AlulaSpeaks
Summary: After the Inception job, Ariadne recalls Cobb and Arthur to the field for one last job. One last job that will force Arthur to acknowledge how far he would go - how far he already has gone - to keep Dom safe.





	Part of This

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first piece of finished and posted fanfic that I ever wrote. It was originally posted anonymously on the Inception kink meme and then on an LJ with a different screen name (back when I grand designs of joining fandom that completely petered out to nothingness). This was written in a haze of grand and exciting inspiration that this movie filled me up with the first (handful) of times I saw it. The original prompt was: "Someone got a hold of Arthur's totem, Cobb has to help him realize what's reality and what's a dream" from a_loaded_die on LJ. I wanted to bring it here as the current state of LJ is uncertain.
> 
> I had dreams of editing the pacing, but I read through it and still rather liked it so it is presented to you almost exactly as it was originally posted.

Arthur backs out of the room slowly. His head is spinning and a cold sweat breaks out across the back of his neck. He can barely breathe, barely see straight. He backs up into a trash can, stumbles, hits a wall and slumps down against it. The trash can rolls, clattering hollowly into the rectangle of yellow light from the doorway. His hand scrambles desperately in his pocket for his totem. 

The weight of the die is perfect in his hand and when he rolls it, it lands just as it should. He rolls it again, and again it lands perfectly, but it doesn’t matter. He heard them. He saw Ariadne’s soft face and petite frame morph into the unmistakable lines of Mal’s stately figure. He saw it. It doesn’t matter what the die says; this can’t be reality. 

He keeps rolling it anyway.

***

Arthur doesn’t know how she did it, but Ariadne convinces Dom to join them on an extraction job; her first since graduation. It is a relatively simple job and it only requires the three of them. Dom is the last to arrive at the warehouse, chosen by Ariadne as their base of operations. When Dom lifts the metal grate on the service elevator and steps into the main room, Ariadne is already there, crowding into his space and throwing her arms around him, bold as ever.

“It’s good to see you,” she smiles and steps back. “Wait until you see what I’ve worked up for this job.”

Dom spots Arthur in the doorway to his office and shoots him a bemused look as Ariadne leads him away. It isn’t the first time he’s seen Dom since the inception job, but it feels like it when he sees the good-humored tilt of Dom’s mouth. Arthur can’t help but smile and shake his head. He returns to his desk and closes the lid on his laptop before following them to the room where Ariadne has all her models spread out.

The morning sun fills the room with white light. The shadows of Ariadne’s cityscape stretch off the table, onto the floor and across Dom’s polished shoes. He looks like a giant, like a builder again. Arthur can’t take his eyes away from Ariadne’s charming enthusiasm or Dom’s obvious pleasure as she shows him every turn, every intimate detail of her designs. Dom’s eyes are stunningly bright, and even though there seems to be some lingering worry sitting heavily on his brow, Arthur hasn’t seen him this light since Mal. The whole scene leaves Arthur feeling undeniably content.

He spends the rest of the afternoon indulging himself, watching them create from his place leaning against the doorframe. Every once in awhile one of them will look up and flash him a smile. He is a part of this; he is welcome. 

Dom takes a step back and points at the north stairwell of the office building where they will trap the mark. “And these, just normal stairs?”

“Well, yeah.” Ariadne folds her arms and taps her chin dramatically. “Hmm. Think it needs something else?”

“Could be,” Dom answers, mimicking Ariadne’s gesture. “Arthur, what do you think?”

There is a teasing smile lurking in the corners of Dom’s eyes that has Arthur suppressing a huff of laughter as he steps fully into the room. “Penrose Stairs.” He moves to the table beside Dom and grabs a pencil and some drafting paper. He’s only just sketched out the first landing when he feels Dom’s hand settle on his far shoulder, Dom’s arm a line of warmth across his back. Dom braces his weight against the table with his other hand and watches Arthur’s paradox take shape.

Evening’s shadows have stretched to fill the corners of the room by the time they are finished. Dom takes a step back from the table and stretches with his arms above his head. Arthur can’t help but follow the curve of his back up to his shoulders. His breath catches in his throat when his eyes meet Dom’s. There is a strange intensity in his look that Arthur doesn’t recognize.

“Well, are we gonna try it?” Ariadne’s voice breaks the moment.

“What, now?” Dom asks, arching a brow.

“Yes, Cobb, now! I can be very stubborn. Tell him, Arthur.”

“I hate to admit it, we better just do it. She’s not going to back down.”

Dom shrugs and gestures toward the door. “Lead the way, then.”

***

The practice run is flawless. The world is complex and beautiful; the combination of Dom’s and Ariadne’s architecture is heartbreakingly seamless. The dull gray and harsh fluorescents of the warehouse seem cruelly grotesque by comparison when Arthur blinks awake. Ariadne is stretching by the windows and Dom is leaning towards the table, top already in hand. Arthur tugs on his cuffs and smoothes the wrinkles from his pants. He walks to a nearby table and discretely rolls his die twice. The blur of red and white grounds him. He can feel his shoulders set more squarely, firm again in this reality. 

Behind him, Arthur can hear Dom’s top spin and wobble and settle into a solid spin again. It does not topple. He whips his head around, heart in his throat, to see the top still spinning. Again it develops a precarious wobble that grows more intense, and Arthur would expect it to fall any second if it weren’t for that strange, heavy look that is darkening Dom’s face again.

Ariadne chooses that moment to call out to Dom, who snatches his totem from the table before it can topple. He raises his eyes to Arthur before turning to join Ariadne by the window.

For the first time in years, Arthur feels like his tie is choking him. He loosens it and pulls out his totem again. He rolls his die three more times. It tells him that this is reality; he has no choice but to believe.

When he goes to join Ariadne and Dom, something stops him from getting too close. He hangs back by the doorway to his office. He is close enough to hear them, but they are too engrossed in their conversation to notice him.

“I know it’s hard to understand, Dom, but you must try. I saw the top. You are beginning to suspect the truth and I have been waiting for this moment.” Ariadne has her hands braced on Dom’s shoulders as she pleads with him. “That night on the window ledge, our anniversary, I was right. When I jumped, I woke up.”

“This isn’t funny Ariadne. Stop.” Dom hisses and grabs Ariadne’s wrists, forces them off his shoulders.

“Look closer, Dom. Don’t you recognize me? Didn’t you think it was odd how quickly I discovered your secrets, how easy it was for you to let me stay close?”

“Mal?” Dom chokes on the word, but it is enough. Ariadne smiles, only she isn’t Ariadne anymore. Her body lengthens and fills out. The waves of her hair tighten and shorten into Mal’s favorite style. And then there she is, Mal, supporting Dom as his knees give out. They sink to the floor together hands on each others shoulders now.

Arthur’s whole body goes numb and his heart plummets into his stomach. How can this be real? His die…

“But my totem,” Dom says.

Mal shakes her head. “You adopted it in a dream, Dom. It told you exactly what your subconscious wanted it to. What you thought it should show you. That’s why it didn’t fall today. Because you’ve begun to suspect.”

“James and Phillipa… They hadn’t aged a day. They were in the same clothes, the same position as the last time I saw them. I just wanted to believe so badly.” Dom stops and takes several deep breaths before he can look into Mal’s face again. “So none of this is real. The inception job. Saito. Yusef.”

“All a dream,” Mal confirms.

“And Arthur?” Dom’s voice breaks on the question. “No. Not Arthur.” His hands tighten on Mal’s shoulders. His whole body shudders and he’s shaking her so hard that her hair flies into her eyes. “Not Arthur.”

Mal allows it, trying to gentle him, being the strong, immovable anchor that she was in real life. No shade, this. And Arthur just can’t take it anymore. He just can’t. He stumbles backwards against the wall, dashing the empty trashcan across the floor. He rolls his die uselessly.

A few minutes tick by before Dom’s silhouette fills the doorway. He hovers there a moment before swallowing the distance between them in two long strides. He crouches down beside Arthur and places a hand on his knee where it is drawn to his chest.

“I’m real, Dom. I’m real.” I feel; I think; I  _ love _ , he wants to say, but he just can’t get the words out.

“Hey,” Cobb leans forward, ducks his head and catches Arthur’s eyes. “I know. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

A light touch on his left shoulder draws Arthur’s attention to Mal, who is kneeling on his other side. The yellow light spilling from the main room is caught in the wispy ends of her curls. She is the light of truth come to save Dom, and she is dazzling. She is terrifying.

“Hello Arthur.” She smiles at him softly and despite everything, it really is nice to see her, the real Mal, without any of the desperate cruelty which defined her shade.

Arthur wants to say something meaningful to her but, “My totem is broken,” is all he can manage. He gestures to where it sits on the ground just beside Mal’s knee.

Cobb lets out his breath in a quiet hiss, and looks at the die as if he has found something long lost. Before Arthur can stop him, Cobb has the die in his hand. He studies it for a moment, tosses it to feel the weight, then looks Arthur straight in the eye.

Dom’s voice sounds like it comes from far away, from a memory. “That’s because it isn’t yours. It’s mine.”

Arthur’s world tilts on its axis. A strange shape, a shifting and forgotten memory begins to form in his mind: a picture of Dom pacing and rolling the die in his loosely cupped hand while he waxes poetic about the potential uses for the PASIV device. It is enough to ground Arthur. When he looks up, Mal is waiting patiently to meet his eyes.

“Oh Arthur, don’t you remember? I called you and told you I had lost Dom, lost him to a dream. You promised we would find him. We entered his dream together. You must try to remember.”

There is a knot of nervous energy tightening itself in Arthur’s gut and he can’t sit still for a moment longer. He springs to his feet and begins to pace. His mind is racing. He sees flashes of color and ghostly shapes that refuse to solidify. It is all just out of reach.

“I don’t know if I can,” Arthur admits.

“You can.” Dom’s voice is firm and resolute. “I’m not leaving without you.”

That’s all it takes for the memory to slam home. There was a PASIV device, and an open doorway. An ugly bedspread with a nondescript linear pattern.

“A hotel. We were in a hotel.”

***

Arthur is standing in Dom’s hotel room in Paris. He has his back to Mal, but he can still feel her pacing.

“How can I reach him, if I can’t get close to him? His projections see me coming and stop me every time. In his mind I am dead, so the sight of me must be so incongruous with what he thinks is reality, that they see me and immediately know I don’t belong. They just attack! I never even make it within 50 feet of him!”

Mal stalks over to the open door and peeks out into the hallway. It remains empty.

“Every time we try again he’s slipped further into this delusion. If he goes another level down, we may lose him entirely! We can’t keep getting kicked out. Arthur, are you even listening to me?”

“You can’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t get close to him. There’s no way. Not looking like that. You’ll have to create some other persona. How’s your forgery?”

“It’s passable, but I might have to leave the dream to prepare. We can’t risk letting him slip away.”

Arthur runs a hand over his head, smoothing it over his hair. Mal really isn’t going to like this. “I can stay.”

“The projections will recognize you eventually, too.” 

“Not if I become part of the dream.”

“What? Arthur, no.” Mal takes a lurching step forward. Arthur slips his hand behind him, underneath his suit jacket and grabs the glock from where it rests against the small of his back. He levels it at Mal’s head, stopping her in her tracks. He has already made his decision.

Arthur nods to the open PASIV case on the tacky bedspread. There is a little secret compartment built into the right side of the case, Arthur discovered it accidentally. It hangs open with Dom’s loaded die nestled inside.

“He abandoned his totem.”

“I know,” she says.

Arthur reaches into his pocket and pulls out his lighter. He admires the sleek lines of his Zippo, the dull shine of its matte silver finish. He can almost see himself in it. He flicks it open, depresses the button, and a flame springs to life at its end, something that only happens in the dreamscape. In the waking world, the lighter is gutted. There is just a small weight that shifts around inside of it, the feel of which Arthur knows intimately. He flicks it closed, and the flame is snuffed out. He keeps the gun pointed at Mal the whole time.

Mal slowly reaches for the pistol she keeps in her waistband, but Arthur shoots her an incredulous look and she lets her hands drop to her sides. He walks over to the PASIV case and slides his totem in alongside Dom’s. It doesn’t quite fit; the compartment won’t latch shut with both of them in there. Arthur hesitates for only a moment before he takes out Dom’s die and slips it into his pocket.

“Arthur,  _ please _ ,”Mal tries one last time.

But Arthur just sighs and says, “I’m not leaving without him.”

He turns back to her and is surprised and moved by the tears sliding down her cheeks. A dull ache blooms in his chest.

“You can save him, Mal, and I can keep him here until you do. It’s time for you to wake up.”

“I’m coming back. I’m coming back for both of you,” Mal chokes out just before Arthur’s bullet strikes between her eyes, forcing her back into the waking world. Her body disappears before it hits the ground, and with it Arthur’s grip on reality.

***

Arthur rushes out into the main room, Dom and Mal just a step behind. He crouches beside the PASIV case and strokes his fingers along the right side until he feels the tiny depression catch against the pad of his index finger. He presses in and the compartment pops open. Inside is Arthur’s true totem. He flicks it open, and sparks a flame.

Arthur stands and tugs his waistcoat back into place, straightens his tie. He lets out a shaky breath. With his real totem in his hand again, Arthur’s uncertainty fades away. He knows Dom must feel the same.

It is now just a matter of getting home and Arthur knows the quickest way to escape. He heads to the table against the wall and pops open a black leather briefcase. There are a total of four guns inside. He shoves his glock into his waistband and grabs two more. Mal is already holding her hand out expectantly when Arthur hands her a gun. She checks the chamber and nods.

Dom takes his gun more slowly, but without any real hesitation. Arthur assumes that Mal and Dom will take aim at each other, leaving him to take care of himself. He finds the idea oddly unsettling. So when the cool muzzle of Dom’s gun presses against his temple, Arthur can’t help his little gasp of surprise.

Arthur meets Dom’s eyes and accepts his tight nod with one of his own. Mal already has her gun to Dom’s head, so Arthur completes the circle.

Mal has a pinched smile on her face as her eyes flash between Dom and Arthur. “My boys. Are you ready?”

Arthur nods and Dom whispers, “You are waiting for a train,” and counts down from three. Not one of them hears the shot which ends their dream.

***

Arthur swims through darkness before he becomes aware of the plush armchair beneath him. He blinks his eyes open slowly. He recognizes the Cobb’s living room. It is summer and the day is hovering just on the edge of nightfall. He spots Dom kneeling beside Mal’s chair, kissing her reverently. They break apart and whisper promises that Arthur cannot hear.

He ignores the leaden pit in his gut and reaches for his totem. He feels the weight slide sluggishly inside the lighter as he tilts it.

“He’s awake,” Dom says.

Mal is immediately moving to his side, and Arthur stands to greet her. She embraces him tightly and presses a kiss to his forehead with a whispered, “Thank you.” Her lips are still wet from Dom’s mouth. Arthur suppresses a shiver.

Mal presses another kiss to his forehead, then angles her head and presses a kiss solidly to his lips. She pulls back, studies his face and leans in again. In his shock, Arthur allows her to deepen the kiss until he is tasting her on his tongue.

An image of a furious Dom flashes through his mind, and Arthur gathers his wits and separates himself from Mal. 

“Jesus Mal, what was that for?”

“You said I was lovely,” Mal teases. In her sweet voice and rich accent, it sounds sinful.

Arthur’s eyes flicker to Dom who is still crouched beside Mal’s vacated chair. Dom’s breathing is quick and shallow, his eyes are wide. Mal follows Arthur’s gaze and smiles as she beckons Dom over.

He stands fluidly and steps right in against Mal’s side, firmly in Arthur’s personal space. He slips one arm around her waist and places one hand on the back of Arthur’s neck, pulling him in until their foreheads rest together.

“What you did was so  _ fucking _ stupid. Never again, do you understand me? Never again.”

Before Arthur can retort, Dom is kissing him, using the hand on his neck to hold him in place. All of Dom’s intensity is focused on the kiss, his brows drawn in concentration. Arthur’s lips fall open willingly and Dom’s tongue plunders his mouth. Shockwaves of heat crash along Arthur’s nerves and he finds himself clinging desperately to Dom’s shoulder with one hand and Mal’s bicep with the other. The whole time Mal’s hand traces soothing circles into the small of Arthur’s back.

When Dom pulls back, he brings their foreheads together again. His hot breath ghosts across Arthur’s lips.

From where Mal’s head rests on Dom’s shoulder, she lets out a contented sigh, “My lovely boys.”

And Arthur finally understands that he is a part of this.


End file.
